anything under it but one skinny 'boy.' Then she put it back on, stepped right up to him as if she was about to say something, and deliberately sneezed on him. He started back, with the most dumbfounded and offended look on his face she'd ever seen. If she hadn't been so near to tears, and so angry, she'd have laughed at him.
'Excuse me,' she said, still wrapped in dignity. 'I've been tending him for two weeks now. Out of charity. I must have caught a chill myself.'
Then she pushed rudely past him, and past the other two, who were already out in the shop with Tonno's books, candles, and pens. She managed to cough on them, too, on her way out, and took grim pleasure in the fact that there wasn't a stick of fuel in the place. And at this time of night, there'd be no one to sell them any. Unless they sent one of their number back to the cloister to fetch some, which meant going out into the storm, they'd be spending a long, cold night. There wasn't any food left, either; she'd been buying soup for him from one of his neighbors.
I hope they freeze and starve.
She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself before stepping out of the door-which she left open behind her. One of the Priests shouted at her, but she ignored him. Let him shut his own damn door, she thought viciously. Then the wind whipped into her, driving snow into her face, and she didn't have a breath or a thought to spare for anything else but getting back to Amber's.
This wasn't as bad a storm as the one that had killed Tonno, but it was pure frozen hell to stagger through. She lost track of her feet first, then her hands, and finally, her face. She was too cold to shiver, but under the cloak she was sweating like a lathered horse. It seemed to take forever to beat her way against the wind down the streets she usually traveled in a half hour or less. The wind cut into her lungs like knives; every breath hurt her chest horribly, and her throat was so raw she wept for the pain of it and tried not to swallow. She was horribly thirsty, but icicles and snow did nothing but increase the thirst. She wondered if she'd been the one that had died, and this was her punishment in the afterlife. If so, she couldn't imagine what it had been that she'd done that warranted anything this bad.
When she got to Flower Street, she couldn't bear to go around the back; she staggered to the front door instead. Amber would forgive her this once. She could clean up the snow later, or something, to make up for it. All she wanted was her bed, and something hot to drink . . . her head hurt, her body hurt, everything hurt.
She shoved open the front door, too frozen to think, and managed to get it slammed shut behind her.
She turned in the sudden silence and shelter from the wind to find herself the center of attention-and there wasn't a client in the place. All of the ladies were downstairs, gathered in the common room, around the fire, wearing casual lounging robes in their signature colors. And all seven sets of eyes-Amber's included-were riveted to her, in shocked surprise.
That was when the heat hit her, and she fainted dead away.
She came to immediately, but by then she was shivering despite the heat; her teeth chattering so hard she couldn't speak. She was flat on her back, in a kind of crumpled, twisted pile of melting snow and heavy cloak. Sapphire and Amber leaned over her, trying to get her cloak off, trying to pry her hands open so they could get her unwrapped from the half-frozen mass of snow-caked wool. Amber's hand brushed against her forehead, as Rune tried to get enough breath to say something-and the woman exclaimed in surprise.
'I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry,' Rune babbled, around her chattering teeth. 'I-I-I'm j-j-just c-c-c-cold, that's all.' She tried to sit up, but the room began to spin.
'Cold!' Amber said in surprise. 'Cold? Child, you're burning up! You must have a fever-' She gestured at someone just out of sight, and Topaz slid into view. 'Topaz, you're stronger than any of the boys, can you lift her and get her into bed?'
The strange, slit-pupiled eyes did not even blink. 'Of course,' Topaz replied gravely. 'I should be glad to. Just get her out of the cloak, please? I cannot bear the touch of the snow.'
'I'm all r-r-r-right, really,' she protested. 'Th-th-this is s-s-silly-'
Rune had forgotten the cloak; she let go of the edges and slid her arms out of it. Sapphire pulled it away, and before Rune could try again to get to a sitting position, Topaz had scooped her up as easily as if she weighed no more than a pillow, and was carrying her towards the stairs.
I didn't know she was so strong, Rune thought dazedly. She must be stronger than most men. Or-maybe I've just gotten really light- She felt that way, as if she would flutter off like a leaf on the slightest wind.
'No-' Amber forestalled her, as Topaz started for the staircase. 'No, I don't think her room is going to be warm enough, and besides, I don't want her alone. We'll put her on the couch in my rooms.'
'Ah,' was all that Topaz said; Amber led the way into her office, then did-something-with the wall, or an ornament on the wall. Whatever, a panel in the wall opened, and Topaz carried her into a small parlor, like Rose had in the private quarters back at the Hungry Bear. But this was nothing like Rose's parlor-it was lit with many lanterns, the air was sweet with the smell of dried herbs, the honey-scent of beeswax, and a faint hint of incense.
But that was when things stopped making sense, for Topaz turned into Boony, and the couch she was put on was on the top of Skull Hill, and she was going to have to play for the Ghost, only Tonno was in the Ghost's robes- she tried to explain that she'd done her best to help him, but he only glared at her and motioned for her to play. She picked up her fiddle and tried to play for him, but her fingers wouldn't work, and she started to cry; the wind blew leaves into her face so she couldn't see, and she couldn't hear, either-
And she was so very, very cold.
She began to cry, and couldn't stop.
Someone was singing, very near at hand. She opened gritty, sore eyes in an aching head to see who it was, for the song was so strange, less like a song than a chant, and yet it held elements of both. It was nothing she recognized, and yet she thought she heard something familiar in the wailing cadences.
There was a tall, strong-looking old woman sitting beside her, a woman wearing what could only be a Gypsy costume, but far more elaborate than anything Rune had ever seen the Gypsies wear. Besides her voluminous, multicolored skirts and bright blouse, the woman had a shawl embroidered with figures that seemed to move and dance every time she breathed, and a vast set of necklaces loaded with charms carved of every conceivable substance. They all seemed to represent animals and birds; Rune saw mother-of-pearl sparrows, obsidian bears, carnelian fish, turquoise foxes, all strung on row after row of tiny shell beads. The woman looked down at her and nodded, but did not stop her chanting for a moment.
Everything hurt; head, joints, throat-she was alternately freezing and burning. She closed her eyes to rest them, and opened them again when she felt a cold hand on her forehead. Amber was looking down at her with an expression of deep concern on her face. She tried to say something, but she couldn't get her mouth to work, and the mere effort was exhausting. She closed her eyes again.
She felt herself floating, away from the pain, and she let it happen. When her aching body was just a distant memory, she opened her eyes, to find that she was somewhere up above her body, looking down at it.
Amber was gone, but the strange Gypsy woman was back again, sitting in the corner, chanting quietly. Rune realized then that she felt the chanting; the song wove a kind of net about her that kept her from floating off somewhere. As she watched, with an oddly dispassionate detachment, Pearl and Diamond entered the room; Pearl carrying a large bowl of something that steamed which she set down on the hearth, Diamond with a tray of food she set down beside the Gypsy.
Diamond kept glancing at the Gypsy out of the corner of her eye. 'That's not one of the Guild Herb-women,' she said finally to Pearl, as she moved a little away.
'No,' Pearl confirmed. 'No, this is someone Amber knows. How?' Pearl shrugged expressively. 'Amber has many friends. Often strange. Look at us!'
Diamond didn't echo Pearl's little chuckle. 'Ruby says she's elf-touched,' the young woman said with a shiver. 'Ruby says she's a witch, and elf-touched.'
Pearl shook her head. 'She may be, for all I know. The Gypsies, the musicians, they know many strange creatures.'
'Not like this,' Diamond objected. 'Not elf-touched! That's perilous close to heresy where I come from.' She shuddered. 'Have you ever seen what the Church does to heretics, and those who shelter them? I have. And I don't ever want to see it again.'
Pearl cocked her head to one side, as if amused by Diamond's fear. 'We-my people-we have old women and old men like her; they serve the villages in many ways, as healers of the sick, as speakers-to-the-Others, and as
